The Allure Of It All
by Jayneysuk
Summary: Six months after the unit closes Grace takes a holiday. Boyd tags along. A little bit of fluff.


Title: The Allure Of It All

Pairing: Grace/Boyd

Spoilers: Anything is fair game. Set post series nine.

Rating: T for a little innuendo

Summary: A post retirement vacation

Disclaimer: Waking the Dead is the property of the BBC and as such I just get to play a little

**The Allure Of It All**

Grace closed her eyes and inwardly groaned as she heard unmistakeable footsteps on the deck. For a few minutes she had been lost in thought, the words on the page blurring before her, the rhythmic lull of the waves calming her, the morning sun low enough to lightly tease her skin. All of it was about to be ruined by the man heading her way. It had seemed a wonderful idea to take a short break away from everything, except in a moment of madness she had decided to invite Boyd. More surprisingly, he had said yes, albeit reluctantly. What she had hoped would be a relaxing and romantic break, had at moments been close to driving her over the edge, and now once more he loomed over her.

"Boyd, you're blocking out the sun," she finally grumbled, waving her hand as though she could swat him away. "Move," she added, when his broad frame hadn't shifted seconds later.

A deep sigh resonated from him, as he placed the two glasses on the side table and settled himself back on the lounger. Neither of which he managed peacefully or without fuss.

Grace waited and barely a second later he exclaimed, "I just don't get it."

She stifled the urge to tell him to shut up, because in all reality she had been doing that a little too much since they had embarked on their little adventure and she was trying harder to be more understanding of his needs. Instead she lowered her book and forced a smile. "What exactly?"

"The allure of it all," he replied as though she should know every thought in his head, his hands gesturing through the air.

Grace's smile faltered, her eyes boring into him. "Allure?" As with everything about the two of them, nothing began at a logical beginning, instead they always found themselves in the middle, an end nowhere in sight.

"Being trapped on a boat in the middle of the sea with people you don't know." He wasn't entirely sure which was bothering him the most – the fact he couldn't go anywhere or the fact that last night he had found himself at a table with perhaps the most annoying couple he had ever met.

"Firstly, it's not a two foot dinghy, Boyd, it's a luxury liner with more amenities than the average hotel," she stated, peering at him over her glasses.

"In all fairness, Grace, we rarely use the amenities in any hotel," he grinned, his eyes twinkling in mirth. "So . . ."

Choosing not to take the bait, she continued, "And secondly, we're retired, it's what we're supposed to do." Although after three days at sea, it wasn't something she wanted to repeat either.

He made a throaty sound in dismissal, the idea of retirement still too foreign to him.

"That, and plant allotments," Grace added jovially, raising her book until he could no longer see her face.

Boyd stared at her in horror.

Grace waited a beat. "Don't worry, I don't think we're there yet. Anyway, at least here you can't find cold cases to solve." In some ways she couldn't blame him. It had only been six months and he was nowhere near ready to retire. It was just the fact that he seemed to find them everywhere. His house was now littered with books on murder and serial killers, all unsolved, all annotated with his own unique scrawl, because he really didn't know what to do with his time. The problem was he wanted her opinion on them, and when she didn't have more than enough work on her hands, she was trying to enjoy the free time she had .

"We're in the Bermuda Triangle, Grace, there are countless stories of missing planes and boats," he scoffed.

It was Grace's turn to groan, the book landing on the sun lounger with a thud. "You really suck the fun out of everything, don't you? It's ninety degrees with not a cloud in the sky. We have a limitless supply of alcohol and food, and I bought a brand new swimsuit, and all you can focus on are sunken ships."

He rolled onto his side to look at her, his head resting on one hand. "This was your idea, Grace. You're the one who thought it would be fun to get away together, so it's technically your own fault."

His boyish grin failed to have the desired effect. "Yes, and don't I know it." She adjusted her position to face him. "Right this second I'm regretting it. You see while you're griping and whining I'm sat here getting burnt."

"We could move inside and find something else to do." The grin was wider than before.

"Boyd!" she growled, half-heartedly.

"Just a thought." He mumbled something incoherent and rose to his feet before perching precariously on the edge of her sun bed and motioning with his hands for her to turn around. "Maybe later?" he asked hopefully.

"Maybe. See, this is better." She smiled wickedly and handed him the bottle of sun cream.

Squeezing an ample amount of thick white cream onto his palm, he discarded the bottle and began to gently rub her back, up to her shoulders, his fingers tenderly pushing the straps aside. "And for the record I love the swimsuit. Although, I prefer you out of it."

"Boyd," she chastised, her face turning a rosy hue. In their early encounters friends had been hard enough to contemplate, but they had endeavoured and succeeded. Now that they had moved a step further she was finding it even harder to believe he wanted her in his life, or that it was more than a temporary arrangement, even more so that the attraction was more than intellectual.

"As I will show you later," he whispered against her ear before placing a chaste kiss on her neck.

His breath against her skin brought forth the lightest of moans and she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. "Behave, you're in public. Why don't you take a walk or something?"

"Trying to get rid of me, Grace?" he teased, rubbing his hands on her towel before wrapping them around her waist.

"No, I was thinking maybe you could do a little exploring and stop acting like a caged animal." Although right now, despite her protests, she was enjoying the little bit of tiger in him.

"What you were hoping is that I'm going to fall overboard."

"If wishing made it so," Grace mumbled, fleeting wondering if anyone would notice if she were to give him a gentle shove.

"Sorry?" he asked, innocently, his fingers beginning to stray from her waist.

"Maybe you could find us something to eat."

"We've only just had breakfast."

"How about some fruit. You know what the doctor said."

Boyd released her and rose to his feet. "Okay."

Grace inwardly groaned, grabbing his hand and pulling him down for a kiss. She forgot sometimes that despite his usual gruff, over-bearing demeanour he worried about her. For the most part she made sure he had little to worry about but sometimes a throw away comment would result in him having a minor crisis. When she pulled away he was smiling again.

"Will you be here when I get back?"

"Well, I was thinking a little sky diving, maybe some rock climbing," she teased lightly.

Boyd stared back at her, never really sure when she was playing with him.

"If I'm not here, Peter, I'll be in the cabin."

"Was that the maybe later. . . ," he trailed off as she became poised to throw something at him, stepping back and retreating along the deck.

Grace slid her hand under her lounger and pulled out her sun hat. Placing the oversized straw hat on her head, she picked up her book and stretched out. A smile tweaked at her lips as her senses once again became infused by the smell of the sea, the gentle breeze of the sea air against her skin, the sound of the lapping waves and the overall calm that returned in his absence. For a few minutes at least he would give her peace.

The End


End file.
